


Bared

by Yen



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Fight Sex, M/M, everything's the same except they're both naked for their death match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-06 01:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20282806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yen/pseuds/Yen
Summary: T'Challa stiffened. There was something about the intimate press of skin against bare, sweat-slick skin, the way N'Jadaka's muscled, naked body pressed flush against his own, that was very reminiscent of… something else entirely.





	Bared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfeatenmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/gifts).

T'Challa quickly took in the entirety of the situation. 

The vibranium mine, pitch dark save for the guiding lights on the train tracks. 

The sonic disruptors lining both sides of these tracks, deactivated for the moment, but which would flare to life the moment a train passed by, neutralizing the disruptive effects of its vibranium cargo. 

And in the shadows, prowling, his own cousin, hell-bent on killing him.

T'Challa's mind whirred as the pieces of a plan began to fall together. He quickly touched the communicator in his ear, setting up a call to Shuri. 

"Start the trains," T'Challa told Shuri, the moment their call connected. 

"Are you sure?" Shuri asked worriedly. "I saw you two fall down into the mine -" 

"I'll be fine. I have a plan," T'Challa said, then ended the call. He tensed as he braced himself for a sudden attack from any direction. 

T'Challa ducked just in time as N'Jadaka leapt out of the shadows, throwing up his forearm to block the killing blow. The shock wave from the impact rippled through their vibranium suits, sending a jolt up T'Challa's spine. 

They grappled for several seconds, almost equally matched, both of them enhanced by the powers of the heart-shaped herb and their vibranium suits. Neither one could decisively gain the upper hand. N'Jadaka hissed in frustration, lashing out at T'Challa with ever more forceful blows that would have turned the bones of any normal human to dust. 

T'Challa fought as defensively as he could, biding his time for the next train to arrive. But N'Jadaka was fighting to kill, whereas T'Challa was merely trying to subdue his opponent, to defend himself. T'Challa knew that the longer the fight went on, the more likely it would be that he would slip up and give N'Jadaka an opening to deal a mortal blow. Why was Shuri taking so long? He gritted his teeth behind the mask of his suit, desperately praying that nothing had gone wrong. 

T'Challa felt the train approach first, even before his enhanced hearing could pick up the sound of its arrival. 

There was the slightest vibration in the train tracks beneath his feet, followed almost immediately by a distant rumble that quickly built up to a loud roar. They broke apart as T'Challa took a few quick steps backwards, retreating from the tracks, and N'Jadaka moved back too, neither of them eager to face a rushing train head-on.

T'Challa took the chance to catch his breath during these brief seconds of respite, keeping watch on N'Jadaka out of the corner of his eye. N'Jadaka's body language betrayed his frustration at having his enemy temporarily slip out of his grasp. He paced back and forth along the tracks, his motions sleek and sinuous as a panther stalking his quarry, fists occasionally clenching and unclenching in pent-up rage. 

As the train drew closer, the sonic disruptors activated one by one, pulses of bright light radiating from each disruptor. 

Where the light from the disruptor arrays touched T'Challa's suit, it began to disappear, the vibranium nanites retracting back into his necklace where they came into contact with the disruptor-generated force field. Cool air breezed over his exposed body, feeling delightfully soothing against his sweat-slick skin. 

Across the tracks, N'Jadaka's eyes widened in genuine surprise. T'Challa relished the brief expression of honest confusion that replaced N'Jadaka's customary murderous scowl as his black and gold suit melted away, leaving his skin as exposed as T'Challa's. 

Exposed and vulnerable. 

T'Challa charged at N'Jadaka the moment that the train barreled past them, the tailwind of its departure still warm against his skin. He knew that he would only have a few precious seconds before their suits reactivated, and he had to make every strike count. 

N'Jadaka, who had recovered quickly from his initial surprise, bared his teeth at T'Challa in a grin of bloodlust as he met T'Challa blow for blow, parrying the slashes from T'Challa's short spears with brutal efficiency. Without the vibranium suits to cushion the impact of each blow, each of N'Jadaka's bruising strikes felt hard enough to cause T'Challa's teeth to rattle in his own skull. T'Challa held up to the frenzied onslaught as best he could, mind working hard to catalogue and analyze N'Jadaka's fighting style, alert for any weak points which he could exploit after the pass of the next train, when their suits would be fully deactivated again. 

Preoccupied as he was with fending N'Jadaka off, it took T'Challa several heartbeats to realize that their suits  _ weren't _ reactivating. Even as the light from the sonic disruptors' force field began to fade, his own suit remained stubbornly retracted in his necklace, unresponsive to his mental commands. 

_ Bast.  _

The sonic disruptor must have somehow damaged the delicate balance of technology within his Black Panther suit. He was still stark naked except for his necklace, which was now essentially a useless piece of jewellery. 

N'Jadaka seemed to have come to the same conclusion. His lips drew back in a snarl of frustration, exposing the golden flash of his capped canines. N'Jadaka ripped his necklace off, letting it fall to the ground as he lunged towards T'Challa again, fully naked. 

T'Challa was knocked down flat onto his back. They rolled over and over down the rocky slope of the vibranium mine, both wrestling for dominance. Sparks of pain ignited from the areas on his skin which had been cut and scraped by the rocks, but T'Challa pushed it all to the back of his mind, focusing on trying to gain the upper hand. 

When they finally hit the bottom of the slope, T'Challa was, fortuitously, the one on top. He straddled N'Jadaka's prone form, pressing his entire weight down hard against N'Jadaka's body. They were both panting hard from the exertion, flushed and sweaty, so close together that they were almost nose to nose. N'Jadaka growled in anger and bucked up against T'Challa, trying to throw him off. 

T'Challa stiffened. There was something about the intimate press of skin against bare, sweat-slick skin, the way N'Jadaka's muscled, naked body pressed flush against his own, that was very reminiscent of… something else entirely. A strange feeling squirmed in the pit of his stomach, something primal stirring deep within him. He was suddenly very aware of exactly how handsome his cousin was, even with his features twisted in a snarl of rage. 

As N'Jadaka thrust up against him again with a grunt, struggling in an effort to break free, T'Challa could feel his cock stirring with interest, growing noticeably hard against N'Jadaka's groin. 

N'Jadaka froze. For the second time that day, his scowl was replaced by a wide-eyed expression of honest, unguarded shock as he looked up into T'Challa's face. 

They stared into each other's eyes for a heartbeat, T'Challa's cheeks growing warm with embarrassment as he realized that  _ N'Jadaka _ realized that he was getting aroused. 

After a heartbeat, N'Jadaka suddenly found his voice. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, sounding so scandalized that it might almost have been funny. "We're  _ cousins, _ you nasty motherfucker - "

"Cousins," T'Challa agreed, after a moment's pause. His own voice was so low and husky that it was barely recognizable to his own ears. 

The sound of that deep purring rumble made N'Jadaka shiver slightly beneath him. And, unexpectedly, there was the faintest scent of arousal in the air, easily picked up by T'Challa's enhanced senses as well as N'Jadaka's own. 

The  _ oh fuck _ expression of mingled dismay and mortification that rose to N'Jadaka's face was a delight to behold. 

"It doesn't seem to bother you either," T'Challa said, not even bothering to hide his smile. 

N'Jadaka, already an outrageously attractive man, somehow looked even more attractive when flushed and trembling with a mixture of embarrassment, indignation and poorly concealed desire. He swung a fist up at T'Challa, but distracted as he was, the motion was sloppy and telegraphed, and T'Challa effortlessly ducked the punch before reaching out to grab N'Jadaka's arm and twist it beneath his back, pinning it into place.

N'Jadaka hissed in alarm and pain, immediately trying to struggle free. "Let  _ go _ of me!" he spat. 

His squirming only served to grind their bodies together again, the lengths of their cocks sliding against each other, hot and hard. A whine escaped N'Jadaka's throat as T’Challa returned the motion above him, deliberately snapping his hips to chase more of that friction, to get more contact against N’Jadaka’s warmth. 

N’Jadaka’s lips fell apart in a gasp, and T’Challa seized the opportunity right then to lean down and kiss him hard. 

After a heartbeat of frozen shock, N’Jadaka returned the kiss with bruising force. For all his initial reluctance, N’Jadaka seemed to be perfectly enthusiastic right now, kissing him back just as fiercely as he had been trying to kill T’Challa mere moments ago, moving in tandem with T’Challa as they ground their bodies against each other.

They were panting against each other's lips now, flushed with exertion and desire, hands roaming over each other as if to drink in every inch of bare skin. The raised scars etched in N'Jadaka's skin felt strange and bumpy under T'Challa's fingers, but it was worth it to scrape his fingernails lightly over the unusual scars just to hear the sound of N'Jadaka's gasps and bitten-off moans.

T'Challa thrust a hand between their bodies, his fist closing around the head of N'Jadaka's cock. He slid his hand up and down the shaft, angling himself so that he could rub his own cock against the side of N'Jadaka's cock at the same time. 

"Ah,  _ f- fuck - " _

Another helpless little gasp and a curse from N'Jadaka, this time joined by a moan falling from T'Challa's own lips. It felt so  _ good, _ the way that N'Jadaka was falling apart beneath him, rubbing himself off into T'Challa's hand even as he continued to kiss T'Challa hard enough to leave him breathless. 

N'Jadaka arched up into his touch, wrapping his free hand around the back of T'Challa's neck and pulling T'Challa closer. T'Challa blinked - it was a surprisingly tender gesture, not one he would have expected from this man, of all people. His cousin really was full of surprises, T'Challa mused. He still almost couldn't believe that N'Jadaka was letting him do this. 

But then N'Jadaka snapped his hips up hard again, and T'Challa was brought back to the reality of the situation - that he was straddled atop his cousin's naked form as they humped against each other, T'Challa giving his cousin the sloppiest, most rushed handjob he had ever performed in his entire life. Not that N'Jadaka seemed to be complaining. Both of them were finally united for once in the pursuit of a common goal.

He could tell when N'Jadaka was getting close as his breathing started to become more ragged, his hips stuttering beneath T'Challa's own. With a few final rough strokes, N'Jadaka's cock jerked and then began to pulse hot spurts of come into T'Challa's hand, coating his palm with sticky, creamy-white semen. With the vaguest petty sense of satisfaction that he’d made N’Jadaka come first, T'Challa finally gave himself over to own release, panting as he let the waves of orgasm crash over him., momentarily blanking out his mind with overwhelming, white-hot bliss.

He came back to his senses after barely a few heartbeats, becoming gradually aware of just how awkward his position was - lying atop N’Jadaka’s prone, naked form, both of them sticky with sweat and semen, still bruised and cut all over from their previous brawling. Now he felt just as wrong-footed as he had been in the beginning, when N’Jadaka had first walked into the throne room and completely turned his life upside down.

N’Jadaka’s expression of post-coital bliss was beginning to fade, replaced with a defensive sneer. But their faces were close enough that T’Challa could detect the uncertainty in his eyes and the slightest waver in his voice as he said, “So what now? Just so you know, this isn’t gonna change anything.”

N’Jadaka’s muscles were tensing now, bunching hard beneath T’Challa. T’Challa immediately steeled himself for a punch, balling his hands into fists to ward him off. 

But as N’Jadaka surged up against him again, white teeth bared in an angry grimace, T’Challa’s suit suddenly flared to life, spreading out from the fanged silver necklace over his skin. N’Jadaka’s punch glanced harmlessly off the reinforced vibranium as the Black Panther suit absorbed the entire impact of the punch. 

They both stilled in surprise, N’Jadaka’s eyes widening as he slowly reached his fingers up towards his neck, brushing against bare skin. He was still naked.

It was almost comical, the dawning dismay in N’Jadaka’s eyes as he realized that he had  _ thrown his own necklace away _ when they were up on the tracks earlier. He had discarded his best weapon, and now T’Challa had the complete upper hand.

The communicator in T’Challa’s suit buzzed to life. Shuri’s worried voice filtered into his ear. “Brother, are you all right?”

"Everything is fine, Shuri," T'Challa assured her. "N'Jadaka and I are -" He paused for a heartbeat, looking down at N'Jadaka, whose eyes were still heavy-lidded and lips kiss-swollen, and who couldn’t actually do anything more threatening right now besides glare up at him, "- resolving our differences."

N'Jadaka let out an incredulous little huff of laughter. "The  _ fuck _ we are -" 

T'Challa sealed his cousin’s mouth with a kiss, shutting him up. 


End file.
